


Flower of Life

by HoneyBee95



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Bullying, Canon Compliant, Childhood, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, flower comparison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-11 00:04:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8944705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyBee95/pseuds/HoneyBee95
Summary: The Story of How Baze and Chirrut met. Discover how their relationship blossomed over time and grew to what it is now, and how they came to the Temple of the Whills





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw Rogue One, and can I just say that I have never felt so attacked in my entire life. I before seeing the movie, I was heavily invested in the theory that the cast would become the Knights of Ren, but clearly, that didn't come to pass. I must say, though, I fell in love with Donnie Yen's character Chirrut Imwe, and I love the relationship he and Baze have. So here is a fic about their relationship. I put a lot if effort into this piece, so I hope you all enjoy it.

This kid was weird.  
For as long as Baze could remember, The Temple had been a centrepiece of the village, a religious monument that united the people regardless of race or background. Its location at the centre meant that all people in the village had equal access to the temple. United as one under the same teachings, no one person was less than or more important than others through access. 

And yet here he was watching the least unifying thing happen at its door.

The kid was the village pariah.   
Very few people liked him, and his blindness only served as an excuse for his harsh treatment. Even the temple monks who taught at their school did not like him. they only took care of the strange blind boy out of obligation rather than belief. It was no surprise, really, that many of the other village children did not like him either.

Baze watched quietly from his tree as the boy sat helplessly on the steps, surrounded by a group of boys from the temple orphanage. Baze could just make out their actions from where he stood, watching as they tore up what was once in The Blind Boy’s hands and walked off, laughing. 

It was not the first time that this had happened. And Baze often wondered why The Blind Boy didn’t ever make a fuss about it. He was always smiling. It creeped him out. And it was probably a mutual feeling amongst many of the other kids too. 

‘Why don’t you shout at them?’ Baze approached The Blind Boy, both hands in his pockets. The Blind Boy’s gaze focussed on the horizon, away from Baze and towards the setting sun. the boy smiled, dimples and all framing his round face, white milky eyes glowing earnestly. The twin moons reflecting the sunlight from the orange sky. Force this kid was creepy. 

‘There would be no point in that’ The Blind Boy fumbled for the bag that lay at his side, withdrew some paper and started sketching. ‘And why would there be no point?’ Baze was curious. The Blind Boy’s hand worked solidly for a minute, circles upon circles decorating the paper, overlapping and intersecting with one another. The Blind Boy shrugged, ‘it would be rude of me to do so’ the boy said, gaze although unseeing, never leaving the orange sky.   
Baze rolled his eyes at this. ‘Why should you care about rudeness? They clearly didn’t care when it was you. This is every reason why you deserve to be mad at them’   
‘Turn the other cheek is what I believe’   
‘Yeah? Well I’m sure that saying isn’t supposed to be taken literally’   
‘Really? How do you know?’ The Blind Boy looked in his general direction as he spoke, and Baze flinched when he saw those white moons up close. Gathering himself together, Baze continued. He would not be spooked by some random kid. ‘I just know, ok? Besides, shouldn’t you be making your way home? It's late.’  
‘Shouldn’t you?’   
‘Yeah, well I’m not blind’ Baze shot back, surprised and mildly amused at this kids sass. ‘I won’t fall into a ditch and die.’   
‘and you think I will?’  
‘possibly’   
‘you have very little faith in me Baze Malbus’ The Blind Boy laughed, unaware of the gaping mess he had created. There was no way for the boy to have known his name. yes, they attended the same school. But they were in two totally different classes.  
‘How do you know my name?’ Baze almost shouted. The Blind Boy smiled again, and spoke, humour in his voice. ‘When one sense fails, the others get stronger my master says. I learned to listen and used that as a way of shaping what’s around me.’ The Blind Boy stood. ‘anyway, you’re right. It is getting late.’ The boy handed the now complete image to Baze, surprised that he had still been drawing throughout their conversation. And to Baze’s surprise, he marvelled at the image.

A cluster of intersecting circles and lines blossomed on the page, shaping and creating an even larger circle of ornate design and dimension. Filled with varying triangular and oval images, Baze wondered how someone who could barely see could draw something so beautiful ‘it’s a flower’ his voice barely containing an edge of wonder within it. ‘it’s the sun’ The Blind Boy corrected ‘at least that’s how I see it’ the boy’s well-placed pun drawing a soft chuckle from Baze’s lips. ‘I hope to speak to you more often Baze Malbus’ he said, climbing the stairs to the temple entrance. ‘wait!’ Baze called as the boy walked on. ‘You know my name’ he started. why was he interested in this kid? He was weird. ‘why don’t you tell me yours?’ 

The Blind Boy stopped, and turned towards him. And this time Baze did not flinch at his gaze. ‘it is Chirrut Imwe’ the boy said, and with that, Chirrut continued his ascent, closing the temple door behind him.

Baze looked back down at the picture of the sun Chirrut had given him. 

This kid was weird. He liked him.   
\---   
As it turned out, there was a reason why so many people in the village did not like him. If the tales Chirrut had heard where true, he didn’t blame them either. 

Rumour had it, that Chirrut’s parents where politicians, who were corrupt and unsympathetic to the plight and needs of many of the people. Money was often scarce, and when it did come in, they would always find a way to rip it away from the people and use it for their own lavish living.   
When his mother got, sick and was about to have him, many of the village doctors refused to help the couple both due to the lack of adequate funding, and in retribution of their selfish behaviour. His mother survived, but the illness had cost Chirrut his sight, leaving him blind from birth. 

Here’s where the story often got a bit choppy: Some said that his mother, in despair, killed herself and his father drank himself to death after her passing. Others said that they were assassinated. One source even claimed that they merely abandoned him, leaving the village when they realised how much they were despised by its people.

Chirrut did not know what to believe. But that didn’t matter. As far as he was concerned, as long as one person loved him, life was definitely worth living. And that one person was Master Raji. Master – or Mistress as he often called her in private – Raji was rather old from the sound of her walk and talk. She seldom spoke loudly or abruptly, but her presence alone commanded attention wherever she went. An ancient Jedi Master, who’s prowess and skill was renown, she chose instead to settle in the Whills village monastery, to teach the ways of The Force and to maintain the temples traditions and customs. 

She was the one who discovered Chirrut’s Force Sensitivity. Whilst he did not possess the strength or degree of power like other Jedi, the slight trace he did have was enough to illicit her interest.  
And thus, Chirrut Imwe began to live in the village monastery. 

Master Raji taught Chirrut how to master his Force sensitivity, to channel it in order to see the world around him. He spent so much time in The Temple, it was as though he was her very own son, teaching him how to listen and feel when sight was not there. 

‘You seem excited Chirrut’ the elderly lady mused, a utensil tapping her plate. The boy felt his face heat up as he continued to eat his breakfast. ‘I’m sorry Mistress’ he apologised ‘I’m merely excited to see my friend today.’ Another utensil lightly hit the plate and the soft sound of fabric wiping filled the air as it muffled her words ‘there is nothing to worry about my child. I am pleased to see you so upbeat. Can I assume it is the Malbus child who often climbs the temple trees and fights regularly with your peers?’   
Chirrut blushed again. A little harder than before. ‘It is Madam. I hope my friendship with him is not offensive in any way’   
‘Of course not. Any friendship fostered is a blessing between two people, I am just glad you have someone you can call your own.’ Water poured into a cup as the elder continued ‘You know, the Malbus family have a long history of protecting the Temple. It is their tradition. Years of wars and skirmishes has caused their numbers as a family to dwindle, but they are still highly regarded amongst many of the monks. If anything, your friendship with this boy is the beginning of something great for the two of you.’   
Master Raji placed the cup of water in front of Chirrut who – at its sound - reached out, and drank gratefully.   
‘Do you think he’ll protect the temple?’   
‘if The Force wills it’   
‘I hope so’ Chirrut mused, ‘if I’m going to be a monk I’d like to know that someone I can trust and rely on was protecting something so sacred.‘ Chirrut finished his drink ‘May I go now Master?’  
‘You may’ the elder said. Chirrut scampered off. Bolting through corridors, and tripping stairs, using The Force to guide him. Various monks shouted after him in disapproval. Running was not permitted within the temple, but Chirrut could not care in very least.

Since their fateful meeting at the Temple’s steps a month prior, Chirrut and Baze had become inseparable. Finally, outside, Chirrut strode to the general direction of Baze’s favourite tree, listening in case of anything slightly different.   
‘Took you long enough’ came a familiar quip. Chirrut smiled, and leaned against the tree. ‘You would have waited regardless of how long I have taken’ Chirrut chimed, smiling ever so brightly at the sound of his friend’s voice. ‘Yeah, I guess so. Come on. Let’s go have some fun.’   
\---  
‘You didn’t need to do that’  
Baze scowled as the cool napkin touched his scalp. he had already had a notorious history of getting into fights before knowing Chirrut, it was the reason he had no friends prior to their meeting. But ever since the pair had begun to hang out more often, the fighting had almost become a regular day to day occurrence. The pair sat outside the city gates whilst Chirrut nursed a purple bruise on Baze’s face with cool water.  
Baze glared darkly at his friend, the slight pain a channel for his anger.  
‘And let that prick get away with what he just said? No way!’ Chirrut sighed, exasperated.  
‘You need to learn to let things go’  
‘And you’ Baze seethed, anger barely contained, standing. ‘need to learn how to stand up for yourself. I’m tired of this holier-than-thou mentality you have’   
Chirrut frowned at this, looking up. ‘That is not how I think Baze. I merely do not believe violence is the answer.’   
Baze scoffed ‘Really? And what do you know about fighting? I bet you can’t even throw a punch!’  
‘you’ve never even asked me’  
‘I don’t need to. You won’t do it to them when they mock you, so why should I think you’re capable?’   
‘Because’ Chirrut cried, voice rising ‘I care about you. I don’t want anyone I care about to get hurt because of me.’ 

The Blind Boy’s voice rose higher, and with it, an edge of hysteria as he stood.

‘I don’t fight because I don’t like it. I don’t enjoy hurting anyone, and I don’t enjoy people getting hurt because of me. My parents did that before I was born. I, at the very least, deserve the retribution’   
Tears fell from Chirrut’s eyes as he spoke. Each word punctuated and emphasised with a hiccup. Baze watched, wide-eyed. Unused to the usually smiling youth at such a new low. The boy with a smile as wide and as beautiful as a flower blossomed under the Jedhan sun. his tears his sustenance, the fertile ground on which he grew.  
‘I care about you Baze so, so much. And I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. You just being my friend is blessing enough. I don’t deserve you.’

Chirrut’s hiccups filled the silence as Baze contemplated this confession.   
‘Stop that’ The bigger boy said, when he finally found the courage to look up at his blind friend.   
Chirrut answered between gasps   
‘Stop – what?’  
‘That. You’re going to make yourself sick. If you don’t want me to worry about you, how can I do that if you keep gasping and wailing like a fish.’   
The boy chuckled softly, a ragged breath filling the space that was once used for hiccupping.  
Baze continued ‘I don’t know where you got this idea that you don’t deserve me from, but it’s not true. This entire city doesn’t deserve you Chirrut Imwe, because you have more love and kindness in the palm of your hand than this entire city combined.’ 

Confessions where never his forte, but Baze didn’t care. His friend needed support. Needed to understand how important he was.   
‘even if the world where to fall apart because of you, never feel like you are a burden. You are precious to me Chirrut. Your life is now entwined with my own. And I will protect you whether you like it or not.’ 

Baze took his friends hand. The softness reminding him of flower petals, smooth and distinct.   
\---  
‘Father’  
‘Yes Baze?’ Baze’s Father’s sat behind the desk. The study was perhaps one of the most important rooms in the Malbus household. An ancient ancestral home, it had housed the family for many generations, with some of the most important decisions taking place behind their closed doors. It was fitting, really, that this would be where he made his announcement. As Chirrut would say, it was as The Force willed it. The significance of this moment and the symbolism behind it was unparallel. 

Baze took a deep breath. There was no backing out now. ‘I want to become a Temple Protector. I believe this is where my path lies.’ Baze’s father sat up a little straighter at this, dark eyes scanning his son’s thick frame for any hidden messages.   
‘Why?’  
‘Because I want to become – ‘   
‘No, don’t give me that. Why do you want to become a protector?’

Baze bit his tongue, unsure of what to say.

‘it’s because of the Imwe boy, isn’t it?’  
‘Yes…and no’  
‘answer me straight, boy!’   
Baze flinched at the bite in his father’s tone. He shuffled uncomfortably under his gaze, but continued. ‘I want to be a protector because I want to protect the people who are most vulnerable. I want to be stronger than what I am now, and I believe the temple will help me achieve that.’

The Malbus Head hummed as he listened. Taking in everything his son had said.   
‘and do you not think’ he said, finally, after a long pause ‘that you will not get stronger joining the military? It is something I have done, and your brothers are doing now. Why does this appeal to you?’

Baze thought of Chirrut. Laughing, smiling Chirrut. The boy who would tell him stories about The Force and The Jedi. The boy who made beautiful flower like designs and insisted that they were suns. The Blind Boy who, despite everything, saw more than those who could see.

The boy who would be becoming a monk – in – training on the eve of his thirteenth birthday, a week from now. 

Meaning no more Baze and Chirrut, partners in crime. Just Baze. Baze who was jealous of his older brothers. The village punk who beat up other kids because of his jealousy. Chirrut was the force that maintained his anger, quelled, and cooled it. Losing him meant losing himself. It was like a garden growing without its gardener. It would become wild, destructive and unpleasant. Chaos could not live without Order. Baze could not live without Chirrut. 

‘I want to control my strength.’ He was determined to make his father understand ‘The temple teaches how to channel that for the good of all people, and I know I can learn that from the temple. I’m not good at controlling my temper, but I can start learning from the monks. If I can control my anger, I can control my strength. Chirrut made me realise that.’ 

The final part left his lips before he could stop them, and shame flooded the boy’s cheeks and ears when he realised what he had just said. If his father’s expression was anything to go by, he wasn’t expecting that either. The Malbus Head was a difficult man to surprise. 

‘I see’ the man said, quickly regaining his composure, pen tapping at the woodwork. ‘I must say Baze, that is a very mature thing for you to say. I wonder if you know what it means to be a temple protector?’  
‘I do, father’  
‘it’s a waste of talent, protecting a temple.’  
‘the thieves would say otherwise’  
Baze’s father looked up at his son again and frowned. ‘I really don’t like this attitude you have.’ The Head rubbed his temples in thought, figuring out what to do.  
‘I’ll give you a month. Starting tomorrow. I have a friend in the temple who will keep me updated on your progress. Prove to me that you will thrive under the temple, and I will permit you to stay as long as you wish.’ 

Baze’s smile grew at his father’s words, thanks bubbling on his lips, but The Head interrupted him, a hand raised. 

‘But should you not prove that, you will return home. And you will begin training in the army. Understand?’ 

‘I do father. I understand.’  
\---   
‘I’m hungry’  
Chirrut opened his eyes and frowned.  
‘you want to get food now?’  
‘yeah’   
‘Baze, we’ve barely been here an hour’  
‘an hour is lifetime when you skip breakfast’  
Chirrut sighed, a smile blooming. Morning rituals for Chirrut since becoming a monk-in-training, often required an early start with an hour devoted to either prayer or meditation. He took it extremely seriously, fasting until 1 ‘o’ clock and continuing with his tasks after his daily meal. 

Whilst this was not required, Chirrut wanted to stay devoted. And Baze – only recently - willingly tagged along. Even if it killed him in the process. 

‘Baze, I know what you’re doing, and I’m not going to fall for it.’  
The older youth gently poked his friend in the head. ‘doing? What am I doing?’   
‘That’  
‘what?’   
‘that’ he cried, batting away the probing finger. ‘Five years you’ve been my friend. Three an apprentice temple protector. and a month since becoming my assigned partner. And yet there are times I feel like I’m meeting a troublesome child for the first time. How do you manage to get under my skin?’ 

‘I don’t’ Baze admitted, scratching at the ground. ‘you let that happen yourself.’   
‘I swear your existence is just to spite me.’  
‘of course it is. Without me, all the reckless stuff you do would be for nothing.’   
Chirrut sighed again, rubbing his head. ‘Fine. Just this once. What time is it?’   
‘half-past’ 

Chirrut reached out and took Baze’s thick arm. Entwining his slim fingers into the thick digits. ‘lead the way’

The pair walked in comfortable silence. The birds in the air singing bittersweet melodies. The courtyard flowers filling the air with a gentle aroma. It was nice, Chirrut mused. The scenery, the peace, and just being there with Baze as they walked was enough to satisfy him. His companions arm felt heavy and warm against his skin, and Chirrut took pleasure in feeling the thick appendage and thick thorns of hair against his slimmer arm. 

Just feeling his fingers alone reminded Chirrut how much time had passed since their first meeting. It was amazing, really. 

‘Chirrut? Is everything alright?’   
The said boy snapped out of his revelry.

‘Yes, I’m fine. What’s wrong?’  
‘we’re here now. You’ve stood there for a while and people are staring.’

Chirrut blushed and sat down immediately. Reaching out for the cereal, he knocked a small beaker of milk in his haste. The pair reacted at the same time. Catching the beaker before its contents could spill. If Chirrut was flushed before, he was blooming in colour now.   
‘You’re a fool, you know that, right?’   
Chirrut punched his friends shoulder, earning a sharp bark of laughter.

\---  
Master Raji’s hand tapped with a feverant itch at the table woodwork. The clock in the far corner of the room ticked quietly, matching her strokes with equal measure.   
The usually warm and inviting atmosphere that came with the woman was gone. Replaced with quiet anger that seemed to simmer. 

Baze couldn’t bring himself to look at her. And from the corner of his eye, neither could Chirrut. And he was blind. 

‘Can one of you explain to me, what you were thinking?’ 

Silence. 

Master Raji let out a frustrated growl. Her dark skin and gold eyes reminiscent to that of a tiger. 

‘I’ve come to terms with the two of you doing reckless things’ she tapped at her pad, pulling up an image, ‘but this’ she beckoned at it ‘is the last thing I would have expected from either of you’. What was once the village fruit market revealed utter destruction. Stalls and people lay strewn about in pain caught between blaster fire and fists. At the images centre, Baze and Chirrut. 

‘Master Raji – ‘   
‘No Baze, I don’t want to hear from you. I want the instigator to explain it himself.’

Baze turned to look at his friend. Chirrut looked so vulnerable, so lonely. Chirrut’s sweet golden skin contained bruises from the altercation, and just seeing them made his blood boil. If he’d had his way, Baze would have killed them for harming what was his. ‘Master Raji, the people where attacking a child. A Child of all things. I could not stand by and let them hurt her any longer’  
Baze cut in,  
‘These where grown men Master. They all felt it alright to abuse a child who couldn’t afford for herself. Yes we should not have attacked them, yes the girl should not have stolen, but they should have known better.’ Baze took Chirrut’s smaller hand in his own. ‘If you are going to punish Chirrut, you must punish me also.’

Master Raji looked from Baze to Chirrut, deciding what to do. ‘go back to your room Chirrut.’ The lady sighed, finally sitting down. Chirrut gripped his hand. ‘what about Baze?’ he asked, a note of challenge in his voice. ‘I have something I wish to discuss with Baze. Now off you go’ 

Chirrut squeezed Baze’s hand, and finally left the room. When the door closed, Master Raji looked at Baze.

‘You know, since the two of you became friends, he has gotten braver. And reckless.’  
‘I am sorry Master.’ Baze said, head bowed. ‘I am the cause. My influence alone is the reason.’ 

Master Raji hummed, thinking. ‘How do you feel about Chirrut, Baze?’   
‘Pardon?’  
‘Your feelings Baze. How long have you felt what you have felt for him?’   
Master Raji’s eyes where intense. Searching the depth and breadth of his being. It was scary, how one woman had this much power in the palm of her hand.

Baze thought back. Back to when they were children. When they were young and innocent. Back to when they first wanted to work in The Temple. Chirrut’s wonder when he first arrived, bags packed and ready to live in The Temple. Their joy when Baze’s father agreed to let him continue at The Temple. As they both grew and blossomed into young men. Adolescence hitting them and understanding more of the ways of the world. Everything until this moment. 

It was natural. Grown over time and cultivated into what it was now. Love. When it had started or even when he’d realised Baze did not know. But it was there all the same.   
‘I don’t Master. I am sorry. If needs be, I will leave The Temple and return to my family’

Master Raji said nothing, but took Baze’s hand in her own. Patting it. ‘there is no need to apologise. Chirrut is the son I was not permitted to have because of the Jedi code. Chirrut is not a Jedi, but he is a monk. Your relationship may cause problems in the future, and I won’t always be here to protect him. That’s why I ask you now Baze, whatever becomes of the two of you, can you swear to look after him?’ 

Baze thought of Chirrut. His Flower. Grown from despair, watered from rage and warmed by Baze’s unknown love. His Sun. 

‘Yes Master’   
\---   
‘Baze, I think we should kiss’   
The said adolescents hand stopped mid-air as he lifted his cup to take a drink of water. At eighteen, Baze had seen and heard many amazing things. Eighteen years of life had granted him the opportunity to witness many bizarre and wonderful. Chirrut being the top of the list. 

This, perhaps, came a safe second.

The pair where on a quiet mission to one of the remote Kyber mines. With Chirrut’s natural Force Sensitivity, and Baze’s fierce protection, they were clear candidates in the field. This was a regular job for the two of them. Sat opposite each other in their small inn, they unwound after a long day of inspections. 

Baze put down his cup and looked at his partner. Searching his face for a hidden agenda. 

‘What do you want?’  
‘what do you mean?’  
‘you want something Chirrut. I know you. What do you want?’  
‘I want you’ the youth admitted, cheeks filling. Becoming redder than roses. Whenever he blushed he was telling the truth. Years of comradeship taught him that. 

‘why?’ Baze said at last, a little uncomfortable. Why this all of a sudden? Was this a game for Chirrut? Had he realised and took pity on the older adolescent? It was likely. Chirrut had a tendency to put others needs before his own, pretending he was happy with it, but suffering in silence. He figured out Baze’s feelings, felt bad and was too embarrassed to let him down. Classic Chirrut.

‘Because we love each other’ Chirrut said, hand stroking Baze’s. The older adolescent’s eyes widened and he pulled his hand away. ‘your confused.’ Baze began, heart aching. ‘you clearly know my feelings for you and want to take care of me. You don’t have to. I understand’  
‘I’m not doing this for you.’ The Blind Youth said, annoyed. ‘I’m doing this for me’ he reached out again, and this time took Baze’s face in his hand, brushing the pad of his thumb lovingly across his bottom lip. ‘why can’t you understand that?’ 

The softness was intoxicating. It was so unfair. In a cruel twist of irony, fate had decided that the pair be bound together, only to taunt them with their professions being the dividing point of developing any relationship. This was like one of those forbidden romance tropes. The monk and the warrior bound together, but their love forbidden. Ending with one or both of them dying. What kind of sick joke was this? 

Chirrut slowly leant forward, wanting to get as close as possible. 

‘You’re a monk Chirrut. We can’t’ Baze warned for the last time, slowly leaning in.  
‘I want to’

The kiss was tender. Slow and experimental. Baze would be lying if he’d said he hadn’t kissed or fucked before. he simply wanted to make sure Chirrut was comfortable. He, of course hadn’t had any experience in such matters. Chirrut was precious to him. A flower that grew from pain and poverty. He watched him grow, and flourish into what he was now. He was so important, more than a quick fling he could indulge in and throw away. He was his.

Baze was the first to pull away. Chirrut’s eyes where still closed. Hanging in mid-air as he wound down from his high. This time, it was Baze who touched his face, admiring his soft features. 

‘Can – can we do that again?’  
‘do you have to ask?’   
Baze leant in again before Chirrut could reply. This time holding The Blind Youth with fervour, afraid to let him go. Their mouths winding pleasantly against each other, steadily deepening. Touching and grinding against one another. Baze wanted more. He wanted skin. His hand worked earnestly at the youth’s robes, feeling for entrance, groping for access. Earning a moan from his partner when he finally touched him. More Baze thought. More. His hand pulled at the robe determined to feel.  
The cup falling to ground broke the spell. 

The pair leapt apart. Surprised by the noise. Baze licked his lips, enjoying the lingering taste and surveying his handiwork. Chirrut’s usually pristine robes where in disarray, one half still clinging to his body, the other off, leaving his chest and hip slightly exposed. Arm decorated with purple markings where he had gripped him, his arm a spray. A beautiful reminder. 

As they lay side by side that evening enjoying the silence and the stars, Baze could not help but think how lucky he was, to have this Youth in his life. This flower that made everything beautiful.   
\---  
‘you’re leaving!?’   
Chirrut winced as another vase soared through the air and shattered against the wall. When Baze was mad, he tended to take his anger out on inanimate objects, a shift from his earlier misadventures, fighting local kids for the heck of it. 

‘Baze, calm down.’  
‘how can I calm down when you’re leaving me!’   
‘I’m not leaving you Baze’ sighed The Monk. This was harder than he initially thought. Since becoming a fully ordained Monk, his talents with the Kyber Crystals had travelled like wildfire across the land. Several temples called for his services, many of which he declined. But recently, The High Temple of Jedha had made a call. The Guardian of the Whills Temple. This was perhaps the highest honour going, and Chirrut wasn’t a fool who was going to decline an opportunity like this.

Rarely, if ever, did they take people so young. Often relying on older more experienced monks when they made a calling. Chirrut would perhaps be the youngest monk in the monastery if he accepted. 

He did.

‘how can you do this? After all we’ve been through?’ Baze shouted, hurt and despair cutting Chirrut. It was common knowledge, between the pair that any offers made would immediately be declined. They didn’t have to speak about it. They just knew. That was the basis of their relationship. They knew each other so well that they knew how the other felt about certain things. 

‘The decision had to be made Baze, and I couldn’t say no.’  
‘you could have’  
‘no I couldn’t. and besides, don’t you think it would be better for the both of us?’  
‘Better?’ Baze shrieked ‘how could this have been better? You’re leaving me behind and its better all of a sudden? What is wrong with you?’ 

Chirrut frowned, confused.

‘Who said I was leaving you behind?’ Baze rolled his eyes ‘oh so now were both going? They only want you Chirrut. Don’t pretend they don’t.’  
Chirrut was taken aback by this, but continued ‘No Baze, they want us both. Didn’t you see your letter?’ Baze turned and stared at his lover for a long minute. ‘wait, are you saying that we’re both going?’   
‘yes’ Chirrut confirmed. ‘All the other temples just wanted me. The Guardians of The Whills wants us both. They’re impressed Baze. They want you to become a member of protectorate, and they want me to be one of the guardians. I thought you knew?’ 

But Baze didn’t care. He ran towards his lover, took him in his arms and kissed him. ‘why didn’t you tell me?’ Baze cried, choking on his tears ‘I thought you knew’ Chirrut said again unused to the now emotional warrior.   
‘My Sun’ Chirrut said brushing away his tears, using his pet name. ‘My Sun, are you alright?’   
‘I am more than alright, Flower’ Baze cried kissing His Flower. ‘I am glad’

**Author's Note:**

> Please Comment ;)


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